John and Sherlock admit their love
by otpjohnlockforever
Summary: Sherlock likes John. John likes Sherlock.


John and Sherlock admit their love

I look up as John walks into 221b Baker Street. He's wearing a brown jumper, with a mustard stain on his left shoulder. I can tell that he must have come from a date, judging by his wide smile.

"Out on another date, John?" He blushes, but tries to hide it. He's obviously very infatuated with whomever he just met.

"Yes I was," he says casually.

"A bit promiscuous isn't it. Two dates in one week?" John's smile turns into a glare.

"None of your business is what it is…" he says a bit quieter than I expected. He walks into the kitchen to make some tea. I try to ignore it when John goes on dates as I find it annoying and a waste of time. I lie down on the large leather couch in disgust. Why does John even like girls? When he comes back into the room he's wearing pajamas, and I can't help but stare.

I enter the living room, and Sherlock pretends not to notice me, though I can see the corner of his mouth forming a smile.

"I made tea."

"And?" He says, barely paying me any attention.

"Well, would you like some?" I ask, used to Sherlock's smartass remarks.

"Oh, yes, tea would be great." He says with a blank expression.

Sometimes I get the feeling that he deliberately tries to ignore me in all ways possible. I wonder why as I walk back into the kitchen to fetch the tea.

When I enter the room the second time Sherlock looks up. His blue eyes make me feel safe but I don't know why. This happens some times. Sherlock will do something and it will make me feel a certain way.

I give him the tea, and he tells me about how Lestrade is driving him insane, and that he's constantly in need of his help. I can't help but laugh. I've never told him this before, but how he complains is cute.

"What?" he says, showing confusion, an emotion he rarely displays.

"It's cute when you complain…" As soon as I say it I wish I hadn't. I can see Sherlock swallow and his face redden.

"I'm not one of you girlfriends, John." He says tentatively. I search for the right words to use, and I have to remind myself that I am straight. Not gay.

"That's not how I meant it, Sherlock." I say, as I walk to my room to go to bed. I can feel his sharp blue eyes on me the whole way to my room.

I wake up to my phone ringing. I pick it up with urgency. It's Lestrade. He tells me to meet him at 4583 Chester rd. It's urgent. I put on my coat, and go into John's room to wake him up.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in here?" he says in disbelief. He clearly has not slept well. I can't help but notice he's only wearing boxers.

"I'm here to wake you for a case. Lestrade just called me. It's urgent."

He thinks for a second.

"Since when do you take orders from Lestrade?"

I snicker.

"He told me it involves a serial killer."

"Alright fine, give me a minute." John says.

We take a cab to where Lestrade is waiting at the crime scene. Police are everywhere, swarming like ants. There are three bodies on the ground in front of the convenience store I rarely go to.

"I thought you'd like this case." Lestrade says to me.

"Yes," I say, already examining the bodies. I look at each man and notice that each person has the qualities of a doctor. I look at John.

"All of the victims were doctors."

John who is half-asleep suddenly wakes up. He looks at me, and then at the bodies.

"Brilliant." He says in the pleased way he does. Lestrade just nods his head.

When we arrive back at 221b Baker Street. I get to work on the case immediately, trying not to be too distracted by John's telling me how brilliant it was that I knew they were all doctors.

I can't stop thinking about last night. About the comment I made on regarding his cuteness while complaining. I can't tell how I meant it. It just kind of slipped out of my mouth. I watch him work. His curly hair makes him so handsome…and those cheeks. Stop John. I tell myself. Even if Sherlock does like you in that way you are straight, and that's that.

I walk toward him.

"How can I help?" he looks up, and our faces are so close I can feel the sexual tension between us. He gasps, turning his face away.

"I'm fine for now…" he says. I can tell his heart is beating fast. Half of me wants to call my girlfriend and forgot about him, but half of me wants to kiss him hard, right here. I go for the former because I'm not even ready to admit to myself that I really want the latter.

I try to work on the case, but all I can think about is what happened this morning…how close he was to me. I try as hard as I can but the thoughts seem to be locked in my hard drive forever.

We learn everything we can about the victims. John does most of the work though, because I'm distracted and finding information about people is tedious.

"I'm going to shower," John says. I find this strange, why would he tell me?

"Great" I say sarcastically. He goes into the bathroom, and I just stare.

A few minutes later he asks me to come and bring him a towel.

"Okay…" I say. I walk into the bathroom, and there he is. Just standing there, naked, in the middle of the room. I almost pass out.

"John…"I say, unable to form a sentence, for the first time in my life.

Sherlock Holmes stares at me in utter disbelief. I move toward him slowly. I need his touch. My erection is so big I have trouble walking. I tell myself to forgot about all the gay/straight stuff, Sherlock is the only thing that matters now. He stays there. I watch his gaze move down to my throbbing cock, already leaking. His whole body is trembling as is mine

Don't be afraid," I tell him. He moves so that we are a centimeter away from one another, and that's when I make my move. I thrust myself toward him and kiss him passionately. It feels amazing. I pull off his shirt and feel every part of him. He lets me. I can feel his erection underneath his pants. I slowly slip them off his body. We are in a tight embrace as I move toward his abdomen. Kissing every centimeter of his body. He lets out a moan, and I continue on until I get there. He looks up at me, his blue eyes intense in their stare.

I stare at John. I'm happy, and terrified, of what will happen next. I'm dreadfully inexperienced in the area.

"I'll take it from here," he says in a sexy voice. He takes lube from a shelf and rubs it in my ass and on his cock.

He grabs me and turns me around forcefully. He rubs me slowly, and inserts his penis in my ass. I moan.

He moves in and out, and the pleasure radiates through me. He moans and then his semen is in me. Slowly he pulls out, with lube and cum rolling down my warm legs.

"How was that?" He asks me.

"Remarkable" I say. He laughs. Now it's my turn. I turn him around, apply lube, and thrust myself into him. It doesn't take long for me to ejaculate. When I'm done, and out of breath, I tell him.

"I love you, John Watson." He smiles at me.

"I love you too." He pauses.

"That was the best sex I ever had." I laugh, and we do it again.


End file.
